


The Apocalypse in Lawmen's Terms

by plaidpatterns



Category: Homestuck, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: Typical Zombie Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2685866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidpatterns/pseuds/plaidpatterns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Problem Sleuth and Aimless Renegade fight their way through the apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apocalypse in Lawmen's Terms

**Author's Note:**

> It's a pun on "layman's terms", i admit it.

Problem Sleuth ducked under a fallen lamppost, bracing one arm against a low box to launch himself up and over the obstacle. A carapace dressed in caution tape grabbed the back of his loose jacket, yanking him out of the way of an outstretched arm before clobbering a zombie right between the eye sockets. The decomposing brute fell with a moan, his rotting innards splatting against the floor of the park. Sleuth thanked GPI that at least Renegade's melee aim wasn't as terrible as his long range.  
He cast the thought aside as another wave started coming towards their makeshift barricade. Dozens of heavy metal crates were arranged around the large fountain in the middle of Midnight City's largest (and only) communal park, the previously small and scattered bushes and landscaping now ruined past even Boxcars' ability. Not like flowers and plants were his top priority; not since the apocalypse had dropped by for a long stay.  
Sleuth fumbled for his ring of keys, digging his hands in his abnormally large pockets before procuring them with satisfaction. He instantly let off a round of bullets, leaving aside his usual hardboiled one-handed shooting gimmick in favor of shooting the goddamn (un)living hell out of the flesh hungry mongrels. Sleuth smirked triumphantly as smoke crawled out of the barrel of the tommy gun. He turned to locate more ammunition when he noticed Renegade feeding bullets into his own assault rifle.  
"Uh," Sleuth managed to get out before the carapacian let off a round of poorly aimed bullets. The detective hit the deck as multiple rounds ricocheted off the metal crates, while others hit everything from trees and broken sidewalks to, thankfully, a few unlucky zombies.  
Sleuth did a discreet patdown to see if he was bleeding anywhere. It wasn't that he didn't trust his friend, it was just. Well.  
Renegade had shit aim.  
"Sleuth, I have taken down part of the wave, but we do not have nearly enough firepower to clear them all out before they reach us," Renegade announced, already slipping rounds of ammunition into the folds of his wraps and on belts circling his chest.  
"Renegade, maybe next time we should leave the shooting to me?" Sleuth suggested hesitantly. "My tommy gun maybe be old but it holds more ammunition than your assault rifle, and, uh, is in better condition--"  
Renegade cut him off with a curt wave of his hand.  
"Sleuth, please," he interjected, not looking up from his hurried supply gathering as Sleuth brained another one of the faster flesh eaters and shot down another row with his revolver. "I do not mean to be rude, but I think the little ammunition we have is better in the hands of a trained law official," he took a moment to gesture to the downed zombies, even though most of them were Sleuth's doing.  
Problem Sleuth looked down at the MCPD official exasperated, with his hands outstretched in front of him like he was five seconds away from strangling the smaller guy. Sleuth loved his buddy to bits, but GPI he could be so infuriating sometimes.  
He let it drop, stashing bottles of water and other miscellaneous supplies: Wrench? Definitely essential. Broken pieces of industrial strength rope, too small and fragmented for fundamental use? Proooobably important. Some zombies castaway, fashionable hat? Well don't mind if I--  
Renegade smacked Sleuth's hand that was beelining for the bloodied and flesh-covered hat. If he had eyebrows, they'd be set right above his eyes in a hard line that said, "Really Sleuth? Really?" The detective just smiled sheepishly before withdrawing his hand, standing with his inventory full of junk and not-junk. Renegade stood as well, drawing a makeshift spear he had made on a previous supply gathering. Sleuth followed his cue and drew a long piece of metal pipe.  
"Right, so," Sleuth said in a nonchalant tone that betrayed the oncoming frenzy from the outskirts of the park. "We trigger the last of our grenades, we shoot down what few are still standing, run through the gap in the crowd and hightail it the hell out and towards the next point," -- he gestured to a far off building, about five stories high with smoke billowing from a chimney.  
Renegade nodded, watching the trees for any signs of movement before hoisting his bag over his shoulder. "The building was labeled as one of the crew's hideouts. It is likely that there is plenty of ammunition in there if we can get in--"  
The plan rundown was cut short when the oncoming horde finally broke through the cluster of trees, letting off terrible moans and groans as they lumbered across the stone walkways. Sleuth pulled the last of their explosives and pulled the pin, turning to grin at AR.  
"Ready when you are, officer."  
"Do not trip this time Sleuth"  
Sleuth launched the grenade in the thick of the horde, frowning indignantly. "Oh come on, it was the middle of the night! An' foggier than the goddamn bottom of the Chicago river!!"  
The explosion shook the floor and the duo took off running.  
"For you maybe," Renegade said while slicing one surviving corpse. "But the debris was fairly clear to me--" Sleuth dodged a puddle of gore while groaning.  
"Oh here we go again," he managed to complain in between breaths.  
"-- Which is a clear reason again why carapacians are better at survival than fleshy humans--"  
"Renegade, we've been over this; humans are just as good--"  
AR turned to look at Sleuth with exhaustion. "Humans are much more vulnerable--"  
He blinked in confusion when he turned to see Sleuth's revolver aimed in his direction. The gun fired, bullet hitting another infected in the chest as it leapt towards the carapacian from behind.  
AR winced as his ears rang, but he took the lesson for its worth and decided the conversation would be better brought up when they weren't in the middle of an apocalyptic escape.  
Finally they made it though the park gate, grabbing either iron door and slamming them shut. Sleuth glitched the paperclip in his pocket into a chain lock, quickly doing up the door and hopping back immediately before a flurry of violent and rotting hands sprung out from between the bars, grasping at air.  
The two took a minute to step back and check themselves for any injuries, hoping to catch their breaths before the next stretch.  
"We should get going," AR announced after a few minutes of heavy breathing, eyeing a few of the more intelligent corpses grasping curiously at handholds and scrambling for footholds to climb on. Sleuth nodded and brushed his ratty trenchcoat off, lifting a hand to readjust his hat before remembering it was long gone. He sheepishly brought his hand back down.  
"Lurin' them all into the park seemed to work well," Sleuth pointed out, noting how the streets weren't anywhere near as thick with zombies as they were before. A few weak stragglers staggered to and fro, but otherwise the cracked asphalt lines were clear.  
"For now," AR reminded Sleuth sternly. He began walking off to the right confidently until Sleuth called out to him and pointed in the opposite direction.  
"Hey, Renegade. The crew's building is thataway," he said with a small smile, trying not to make his pal feel bad about his bad sense of direction.  
AR cleared his throat and pivoted around.  
"Right. Of course. I was well aware of the direction," he said stiffly, walking past Sleuth as the detective full out grinned in amusement. Sleuth did his best to hold back any sort of witty retort, though a couple of stray snickers did find their way out.


End file.
